Autumn Respite

It seems the internet and airwaves are awash with bad/crazy/scary news. I care about it all and am paying attention and cannot wait until next Tuesday, when I will be pressing my nose up against the window at my local polling place, eager to vote.

And yet . . . one needs a break. One needs a reminder that our world isn’t only bad/crazy/scary. You, my blog friends, offer many and excellent reminders of that. And I want to contribute my own, from my lovely part of the world.

Autumn has been awesome this year. It’s always my favorite time of year, here in upstate New York, in the Adirondack Mountains, near Lake Champlain. But this year the color of the trees, in addition to being bright, has persisted longer than usual or so it seems to me. A few trees fade and more have taken their place.

I can’t give you the freshening breeze that makes the leaves dance and sparkle. I can’t give you the tang of woodsmoke or the crunch of dry leaves beneath your feet. I can’t give you the snap of an Autumn Crisp apple or the sound of the snow geese as they make their raucous way south.

But I can give you the sights of autumn. Many, many sights of autumn. You can click on them as you choose . . . I just know I feel better having been out there, in our pretty world.

 

 

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An Autumn Pet Peeve

I love a field of autumn corn. The stalks all golden brown, lined up, and waiting to be harvested. It’ll be cut down, chopped, and used for silage to feed cattle during the long winter. (Silage goes in a silo and that’s what most farmers call it. I grew up on a farm very near the Quebec border and never heard the word silage until a few years ago. We used the word “ensilage” exclusively–the French influence, I guess.)

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I even love a field of mown corn. It looks restful, harvest finished, and its sere, muted shades make the surrounding foliage seem all the more radiant.

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But this? This make me peevish. Who does this?

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Who harvests an entire field and leaves one last corn stalk standing? So untidy . . .

(And can you see the blue jay photo bombing the picture?!)

The North Country’s Revenge

Every spring, I desire revenge.

Spring comes to the entire rest of the northern hemisphere before it gets to us, you see.

For months, from February on, I look at your photos of snowdrops, of crocus, of hellebores and daffodils.

I see tiny buds sprouting on your trees and read your descriptions of warm, sweet-smelling breezes. All while my world and any promise of spring are still covered in drifts of snow. I get a little bitter, looking at your spring.

And, by the time spring arrives to me and my snowdrops and daffodils show their pretty faces, people are tired of looking at snowdrops and daffodils and have moved on from the rapture of spring.

It’s not just me—Facebook users and bloggers all over the Northeast know my pain.

But, this is the time of year we get our revenge!

Because we have autumn in the North Country of upstate New York, in the Adirondacks, and all over New England.

We have glorious, perfect autumn here. It comes early and seems to last and last.

We have apples. We have pumpkins. We have mountains and lakes and a sky that is Adirondack blue. Click on the thumbnail photos and drink it in!

 

Or at least the sky is Adirondack blue when it isn’t some moody and evocative shade of autumn.

We have oaks and poplars, and birches and beeches, and ash trees, and their leaves all turn fabulous colors.

But, more important, we have maple trees.

We have maples that turn flaming red and orange. They aren’t satisfied with giving us the gift of sap for maple syrup in the spring. Every fall, the maple trees up the ante on themselves, and they give us glory.

This photo is not the most spectacular but it shows exactly what this part of the world looks like right now. All the ingredients—the colorful foothills of the Adirondacks, the remnants of corn that has been stored as ensilage for cows, the bright trees against an Adirondack blue sky, and the ladder reaching into an apple tree, providing access to that perfect autumn fruit.

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So, in the spring, when you are parading your colors and beauty, I’ll be enjoying them. But, I’ll also be sighing and waiting for mine, in October.

Revenge is sweet.

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I wish I could say I took this photo but it’s by Brendan Wiltse. https://www.facebook.com/brendan.wiltse.photography/

 

 

 

Autumn as Antidote

IMG_4087A young friend liked Disneyworld. He really did. But at the end of a busy, exciting day, he burst into sobbing tears.

His parents asked him what was wrong. Through his tears, he said, “Too much people, Mommy. Too much people.” That little introvert had had enough.

Yesterday, after three days of work at the quilt guild show, of smiling and meeting and greeting, I knew exactly how he felt.

I enjoyed it. I really did. But, by Sunday night, this little introvert had had enough.

I was drained. Exhausted. It had been busy and exciting, but so many people!

Yesterday was my antidote, to get me back on track, back to quiet and solitude, back to myself.

Autumn was my anodyne.

And we fit all of autumn into one quiet, perfect, healing day.

With piercing bright sunshine, a dancing breeze, and temperatures in the 60s and 70s, it was the most exquisite fall day imaginable. The autumn foliage season was at its peak. We started by taking our annual leaf-peeping drive.

With each sparkling, falling leaf, I could truly feel my shoulders settle down, from their tense, hunched state. Silence was as golden as the leaves. We didn’t talk much, except to exclaim about a particular tree or an extraordinary view.

Want to see some of them? (Sorry there are so many–I had trouble choosing! Click on them to see the shining details of autumn in the Adirondacks!)

When the leaf-peeping tour was complete, we stopped for an apple crumb-top pie at an orchard where people waited in line to take photos of their little children with big pumpkins.

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We went out to lunch, at the spot we knew the beers would be coldest.

Home for a quick nap and then the autumn perfection continued.

A guitar and singing by the lake, the best songs for the last night we will sit here until May.

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Warming drinks and steak on the grill. Family and a perfect campfire.

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A sunset to bring summer and autumn 2015 into perfect harmony.

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Maybe autumn is meant for introverts and that’s why it’s my favorite season. A time when voices can seem a little too loud and we don’t need to say much, just keep our eyes open.

During autumn, I don’t feel a need for lots of people to keep me company—just the most special ones. It’s a time when we’re busy turning inward, making plans for the cocoon of our winter home, and relishing every bright, sunny moment because we know darkness and cold lies ahead.

I know not everyone loves autumn—some see it as a dying season, and feel melancholy. I don’t think I ever feel more alive and energized. After yesterday, I am whole again. I can face people and deadlines and maybe even quilting!

How about you? Are you an autumn-loving introvert?